


It Was The Cheekbones

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Depression, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not!Fic, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bob has this crush on Raymond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was The Cheekbones

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know.

Bob can appreciate nice cheekbones. His girlfriend has nice cheekbones.

But Raymond Toro has amazing cheekbones.

His girlfriend kisses him though.

So he's appeased.

xxx

It was mainly Raymond's fault in the first place, because he just had to have those _thighs._ Bob ignored them, though, because his girlfriend had thighs, too. Very nice thighs, which he liked to touch. When they had sex. Very nice sex.

But then Raymond smiled at him and he smiled back and ignored how Frank gasped in stoned surprise because he smiled.

He threw a pillow at Frank, who simply pulled Bert in front of him as a human shield, effectively causing Gerard to fall over because he had been leaning on Bert. Frank laughed at him over Bert's giggling head until Gerard started crying.

"No, no," Bert had sighed, sadly. "You're a happy drunk. Be happy, c'mon."

Gerard looked at him like he was god, and his face broke into a smile, tears gone.

"Right! I forgot."

Frank glared at Bert, pushing him off his lap. Bert blinked at him confusedly.  
Bob smirked at Frank. Frank threw the pillow back at him.

xxx

Raymond was in a band. The band, in fact, that Bert's band was touring with. Bob kept out of the way, though. He wasn't in any band. He was just there, making the band sound better than they actually were. That's what sound guys tend to do, as that is their job.

He was fiddling around happily (but you couldn't tell. He was glowering very ferociously. Only Frank had figured out by now that the glower meant that he was content) with some wires that probably weren't even connected to anything; he just liked wires. When a shadow blocked the light from his fiddling, so he looked up and trained his glower on whoever it was. The glower dropped when he saw the massive amount of hair.

"Hello, Raymond," Bob said, politely. Raymond giggled around the cigarette that he had placed between his lips, glancing at Bob over his lighter before he stowed it away, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth to let out a puff of smoke.

"You can call me Ray."

Oh. "Oh," Bob said, feeling slightly fluttery when he thought of how Raymo-Ray. Just Ray.-had made an exception. For him.

But then he looked at his hands and remembered how his girlfriend sometimes, you know, held them.

xxx

Bob's girlfriend was nice and funny and had the weirdest, coolest laugh ever. He loved her, and he was going to marry her one day.

Raymond was a jerk who apparently let _everyone_ call him Ray, and he even let Bob believe that that was not the case.

Bob preferred his girlfriend very much, especially when he was talking to her over the phone and telling her about Raymond's cheekbones.

She had enthusiastically enquired about his thighs. Bob loved his girlfriend.

xxx

The thing was, The Used didn't really need him anymore. They could use a crappier sound guy that was more willing to get them drugs, because they didn't need his supreme magic. They didn't suck anymore without him. That thought made him feel sad and insignificant, so he sat on the couch of a dressing room, listening to his band play and realizing that they sound the same with an intern running sound. He looks at his sprained wrist, biting his lip ring. He isn't needed here anymore. That was when he started getting sad.

xxx

He felt like he couldn't do his job anymore. He wasn't needed. He would have dreams about filling out forms and applying for jobs because no one will hire him anymore. He couldn't get the taste of failure out of his mouth. He started to lose interest, started spending most of his time doing nothing at all. He knew that The Used didn't _need_ him anymore, which was a shame, but what really made everything suck was how he felt like they didn't _want_ him anymore.

xxx

The worst part is that Bob liked The Used, he liked My Chem, he liked everyone on this tour. And it sucked that he knew it was his last with them, his band. He idly flicked through photos of everyone fooling around and him pretending to be unamused on his phone.

He lasted a few minutes before he called his girlfriend, his lovely girlfriend, and told her that he was hurting. He wanted her to fix him. She sniffled and said she couldn't, not when he was so far from home. Bob stopped himself from saying that the road was his home, because he couldn't stand to hear her cry even more. He thought of how it wasn't making sense. His girlfriend should be home, not a gross couch in a gross building with Raymond and his nice cheekbones. He felt sick.

xxx

Bob couldn't stop the hurting. He wanted to so badly, he even called his girlfriend some more until they both couldn't avoid it anymore and they decided to break up.

When they went to a show in Chicago, he checked on their house to see if it was really over, and saw her in her pajamas, reading a magazine and waiting for him. He smiled and kissed her and held her hands and touched her thighs, but he still felt heavy.

When he went back to the bus the next day, he cried in his bunk because she didn't fix him.

xxx

Bob finally figured out that he wasn't sad. He was depressed. So was Gerard, and Frank, and Bert, and Jepha, and everyone on this goddamned tour. He didn't deal with it like them, though. 

They dealt with it through clouds of smoke and colorful lines only they saw, and breathing in universes that didn't exist until they forgot what oxygen was like and passed out on each other, even more broken than before. Bob dealt with it by pretending that he didn't have a girlfriend and that Raymond was simply teaching him how to breathe. With his tongue. 

He also forgot what color Raymond's eyes were because he avoided them so much when they weren't, you know, making out.

xxx

Bob was cracked right through his heart. It would never stop hurting, aching in a way that showed how it was beats away from death, but it was feebly stuttering on, rationing all his liveliness to keep him from dying and nothing more. He ate, he slept, he pissed, he did his job, and then he crawled into Raymond's bunk at night.

He was always sad. He called his mom to tell her that he was sad, and she told him that he should have gone to college instead of have a job that wasn't important. Bob quietly agreed and hung up, vaguely aware that she meant that no one needed sound guys, but all he heard was that no one needed him.

xxx

When tour finally ended, he stayed in a hotel for a few nights, trying to drag it out before he had to go back to his girlfriend.

When he finally worked up the courage/ran out of money, he drove to his house.

When he walked inside, the house was empty of her stuff, and his girlfriend had left a note on the dresser.

She was sad, too, and he couldn't fix her because he was the reason.

xxx

Bob felt like shit. He felt shitty. He was the shittiest of all feelers. Frank must've felt the same way, because he had visited him on a whim one day, mumbling something about Gerard's girlfriend and how he needs to stop kissing him if he's gonna kiss her, too.

Bob pats his back and they do nothing together for six months.

xxx

Gerard is happy with his fiancée and perfect life and band and friends, and Frank is either staring off into space for hours or eating little bits of food whenever he remembers to, and Bob is sleeping all day. Frank is always on the Internet, looking at what Gerard is doing for a while before he will inevitably see Gerard say something about Eliza, and then he'll sniffle and slam the laptop shut. Bob will always scootch over to make room in his ever-occupied bed, and Frank will curl up against him, and they'll just cuddle and pretend together. Frank pretends he's Gerard. Bob pretends he's anyone who wants him.

xxx

My Chemical Romance needed a drummer. Bob needed a job. It was a perfect match.

He went on tour with them, and they all acted like they weren't depressed and Gerard acted like he was all sunshine and rainbows just because he didn't swallow the pills anymore.

Bob saw him staring at them. Gerard wasn't perfect yet.

He liked The Used more, because they were honest. Bert was high, Quinn was depressed, they didn't hide it at all.  
Jepha was always drunk, Brendon was leaving because he couldn't take it anymore, no one glossed things over or lied.

But My Chem let their stage presences control them. They had these false lives open to the media, and then they avoided their issues and played the blame game and it would always get worse and worse.

Frank cried himself to sleep, Mikey couldn't sleep at all, Gerard slept with his hand under his pillow, clutched around a baggie of pills, Raymond still crept into his bunk, and Bob was just tired.

xxx

Eliza and Gerard fought more than they should, and Bob suspected they did it because they needed something to do. Gerard needed something to be passionate about, and if it was yelling at his future wife, so be it.

Bob nudged him and quietly suggested writing a song.

Gerard wrote I'm Not Okay to make him get off his case, and Bob wasn't happy. 

The song was a mask, it didn't sound how the words felt, how they felt. They were being fake, and all Bob wanted was something real.

Frank played his guitar like it was what kept him going. Bob liked Frank, he was honest.

He did not like Gerard, who had this false life and persona that everyone believed in. He especially disliked him whenever he would grab Frank in a show and kiss him. He didn't mind the actual kissing, but he did mind how he could hear Frank sniffling in the bathroom afterwards.

xxx

Bob had no one to talk to. Gerard was always fighting with Eliza, Frank was always avoiding Gerard, Mikey was always going off and partying his nightmares away with Pete Wentz, and Raymond... Okay, Bob just tended to avoid Raymond if he had a shirt on.

But he was getting desperate, so he sat down next to Raymond and helped him touch up some of their songs.

xxx

Bob started calling him Ray, like everyone else. He didn't notice until Frank pointed it out to him.

"You don't call him Raymond anymore," Frank shrugged, playing with his straw and picking at someone's name carved into the picnic table they were eating on. "He thought it was hot when you called him that," Frank added, looking past Bob to sadly watch Gerard and Eliza hold hands and giggle and kiss and lie to each other, just like Gerard and Frank used to do.

Except him and Gerard didn't lie.

xxx

Eliza broke up with Gerard because she finally saw past his stage presence and false identity, and decided that she didn't like real him all that much. She had given him two choices-keep lying and keep her, or be himself and lose her. 

Gerard was about to gladly accept to the first choice, since he lied anyways, but then he saw Frank strolling around among the tour buses and the sun shining off his hair, and changed his mind.

xxx

Frank liked real Gerard. Frank liked Gerard in general, but especially real Gerard. As a matter of fact, Bob was fairly sure that Frank was in love with real Gerard. And Frank never saw a fake Gerard because he could always see right through Gerard's mask and see what was actually there. It was this superpower only him and Mikey had, but Mikey never used it because the only time he saw Gerard was on stage these days. All his extra time was spent at a party with Pete Wentz, at one of Pete Wentz's shows, or in Pete Wentz's bunk. Frank, on the other hand, saw Gerard every day when he watched him with his puppy eyes, and every night when he dreamed.

xxx

Bob noticed how Gerard was sort of attached to staying in the closet. He refused to admit it, he pushed Frank away even when everyone knew that he wanted Frank just as much as Frank wanted him. Frank knew this, too, but then he gave up because Gerard was taking too long, and got a girlfriend.

xxx

Frank's girlfriend was wonderful. Bob liked her very much, she suited Frank perfectly. The only issue was that after a while, her and Frank figured out that they were just friends. Well, she had to yell at Frank to make him see it, because he didn't want to be alone. If he was alone, he'd go back to Gerard, and he couldn't torture himself like that anymore.

xxx

Bob talked to Ray more and more, and was surprised to realize that they were friends. Unfortunately, because they were friends now, Ray ended his nightly visits.

When Bob played, he would eye Ray's thighs and cheekbones and ache to touch them again.

xxx

When tour ended, so did Mikey and Pete's little fling. Mikey met some girl named Alicia and settled down with her.

It was bewildering to see him actually happy, and not have panic attacks. Bob ached with jealousy when he realized that Mikey found the person that fixed him. Frank was jealous that Mikey got to have his person.

xxx

When tour ended, it ended on a bad note for Frank and Gerard. Frank was furious at Gerard and Gerard was in denial about Frank. He had spent too long trying to look perfect, and how could he do that if he was gay? Frank shouted that he was stupid, and Gerard shouted that he liked it.

Gerard was a liar. He didn't like it at all. He likes Frank too much to.

xxx

When tour ended, Frank stayed with Bob like before, and Bob decided that it was time they started to do things, because they'd stay just as depressed if they didn't try. When Frank asked what he wanted to do, Bob shrugged in defeat and went back to bed.

xxx

When tour ended, Bob kept in touch with Ray, and they talked and laughed and met up for lunch all the time. Bob started sleeping less until he was awake for a healthy amount, he started playing his drums more, and he took walks. Sometimes, he dragged Frank along because he wanted to show the guitarist how nice everything was when you were in love. Frank just sulked and said that love sucked for him so far.

xxx

Bob was happy. Bob was in love. Bob was waking up early to a new day. Bob was getting out of bed after prying Frank's tiny body off of his. Bob was stepping out for a breath of fresh air and to collect the mail. Bob was checking his phone for texts from Ray, who he loved.

Ray had a boyfriend named Paul.

Bob hated that name.

xxx

As sad as Bob was that Ray had a boyfriend, he wasn't depressed anymore, which was a blessing. He focused on helping Frank instead of wallowing in his own misery about Paul and Ray so that he wouldn't get depressed again.

He would get Frank ice cream and take him to amusement parks and the movies and shows.

Frank smiled and laughed and ran around again, but then he saw someone with black hair and hazel eyes and pale skin, and stopped running.

xxx

On the next tour, Gerard had white hair and a uniform. He also had a new perspective on life, and it happened to be more realistic and dark. He thought no one was perfect, especially not him, and no one should try. So he stopped lying and came out. But he was still scared of the world and himself, so he said nothing to Frank.

xxx

The Black Parade was a huge success. For the band and the members.

The band was thrust into the spotlight out of nowhere, and it was wonderful, but maybe a little overwhelming. But Bob could hide behind his drums, and Ray would turn around during songs to smile at him, so it was okay.

The members, though, was where the real difference was. Gerard was honest about who he was now. Maybe not honest about how he felt, but he was getting there, and that was what mattered. Frank was still hung over Gerard, but he learned to be happy without him, with the help of Bob and his guitar and the fans. Ray was still the same old Ray, but he was happy, too. He was in love with Paul. Bob was sad that Ray was in love with Paul, but he was happy that everyone else was happy, and how MCR stopped being a band of liars and started being a band of heroes.

xxx

There was this huge break after The Black Parade where they tried to make a new album, and it bothered Bob that this new album was completely made of stuff that was written to chart and not to make a point. So he quit the band and went back to working sound. He still talked to them, though.

Him quitting must have been a wake up call to Gerard, who decided that the album irked him too, and they scrapped it. They started to write a new album.  
This one was different, because no one would expect it, it was a possibility that no one would like it. But they liked it, and they felt it. So they stuck with it.

xxx

Bob listened to Ray talk about the new album enthusiastically over lunch, and he nodded, smiling. Ray was really pretty, and his cheekbones looked great in the café's lighting. He leaned over to touch them, and Ray stopped talking immediately, eyes wide as he just stared at Bob. He stayed still for a few seconds after Bob retracted his hand, then gave his head a minuscule shake and kept talking.

xxx

Bob missed Ray when he went on tour. He missed Frank, too, but he missed Ray especially. He missed how calm and nice and cute Ray was, and how he was never boring, and when he was, it was okay because Bob loved him anyway.

xxx

When My Chemical Romance came to Bob's town, he went to see them. He noticed how this was a special album.  
Everyone was happy, the music was happy, the fans were happy.

And they all danced a lot.

Then he noticed smaller things, like how Mikey would always lift his eyes off his bass to glance at stage right, no doubt to smile at Alicia. He saw how Gerard stood closer to Frank, how Frank didn't look pained and heartbroken whenever he did, how Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank's waist and rested his head on his shoulder during all of Summertime, how Frank leaned his forehead against Gerard's while they talked between songs. Bob was a little upset that Frank didn't tell him, but he was too busy being happy for them to really be angry.

It was weird watching them play again, and it reminded him of that show with The Used all those years ago, where he listened to someone else running sound and realized that they sounded the same, and felt like a failure.

This time, he was listening to someone else play drums and realizing they sounded the same, too, but this time, he thought it was because the drummer was good.

He was happy.

xxx

After the band broke up, his doorbell rang.

It was Ray. Bob let him in, and the first thing Ray did was say that he broke up with Paul. The second thing he did was kiss Bob.

xxx

Ray and Bob just sat around his house, watching tv and feeling each other's thighs and feeding each other bits of food. Then Ray suggested they eat out, and Bob didn't even mind how that was the most unceremonious way of asking him out onto their first date.

xxx

They were happy together, even if they had fights. They didn't fight much, though, because they were both fairly quiet, but when they did, they fought silently. They would just ignore each other until one of them left an "I'm sorry" note on the other's pillow, and the cold silences would turn comfortable again.

xxx

Ray would try and cook for Bob on every special occasion there was, and each time, he'd turn an impressive red from the steam and the embarrassment of Bob laughing at him when he burnt something.

Bob stopped laughing when he saw how serious Ray was about learning to cook, so he started trying to be a supportive boyfriend.

So he bought Ray an oven mitt with a cat on it and a "kiss the cook" apron for his birthday, pretty much.

xxx

Bob liked Ray's apron, and he followed its directions as much as possible. Ray tasted nice, like candy canes and apples and cigarettes. When Ray started coughing too much and getting tired going up stairs, Bob made him stop, until his kisses tasted simply like candy canes and apples. Bob didn't miss the cigarettes all that much.

xxx

At night, Bob would trace his fingers over Ray's face, mapping out the lines and shadows and creases. Every time Bob stroked over the bridge of Ray's nose, he would shiver in his sleep a little.  
Every time he did, Bob would lean up on his elbows and kiss it.

xxx

Frank and Gerard would come over for Thanksgiving, along with Mikey and Alicia. Frank and Gerard would be disgustingly cute and sit on each others' laps and feed each other with their own forks and cuddle every chance they had and were _constantly_ kissing. Bob didn't really blame them, though. They were simply making up for those wasted years where they didn't have the chance to do all that.

Mikey and Alicia would just bicker with each other and everyone, and it was fun as hell, and Ray would just scuttle in and out of the kitchen, keeping a constant flow of well-practiced food going.

xxx

At Frank and Gerard's wedding, when Gerard-in-a-dress tossed his bouquet, Ray caught it. He turned to waggle his eyebrows at Bob. Bob avoided his gaze and blushed, turning to watch Frank carry Gerard down the aisle instead.  
But then he looked back because he couldn't help it. Ray was still staring at him, so he gave in to his heart and nodded. Ray smiled brightly, taking Bob's hand, and Bob was a little stunned that this just happened. Jesus Christ, that was the most unceremonious proposal _ever._

xxx

Bob didn't like his tie. It was hideous. He would probably have to go buy a new one right now-

"You're not going anywhere," Frank frowned, blocking the doorway.. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No," Bob sighed, irritably. "It's just... What if I fuck it up? What if I say something wrong, or if I trip and fall and accidentally kill-"

"Shut up," Frank snapped. "This'll go perfectly, trust me. Even if it didn't happen exactly how you wanted, it'll still be perfect, because you're marrying who you love more than anything. Trust me," Frank consoled him.

Bob nodded, feeling a little reassured. 

"Okay."

"Good," Frank nodded.

xxx

Everyone stood around while Bob and him cut the cake, taking pictures and crying and cheering. Bob could feel the warmth of Ray's chest on his back from where he was standing behind him, hand wrapped around the knife handle over Bob's own. That was his husband.  
His _husband._

xxx

Of course, they had a fight right after their wedding, and it lasted through the majority of their honeymoon.

It was about something stupid that Bob doesn't even remember, all he knows is that Ray didn't even look at him for three days, and that they were never gonna know how amazing wedding night sex is. Never.

He would curl up tighter in the little armchair of the hotel and try to channel his misery through his eyes, out at the beach through the window.

Every time Ray would walk past, he would lift up his head hopefully, only to drop it back down when Ray would, once again, ignore him completely.

xxx

Bob didn't cry. Fuck, he was _manly_ , okay. The last time he cried must have been that existential crisis he had when he toured with The Used all those years back.

But Ray was being so _mean_ and ignoring all the apology notes that Bob was leaving him, and every time he tried to actually, you know, talk it out, Ray would push past him and slam out of their hotel room, and Bob didn't know what to _do._ So he might have cried a little, into the pillow late at night so that Ray wouldn't hear.

Bob felt sad, and it was the kind of sad that he was powerless about, like depression.

Depression was when he didn't have his meaning, so he couldn't do anything hut try to find it. Regular sadness was when he felt down, and _could_ do something about it, but what Ray was doing to him was making him feel like he _had_ a purpose and all, but his purpose kind of hated him right now, and he couldn't do anything about it.

He sniffled a little bit more loudly than he meant to, and he jumped when he felt a warm hand on his arm, soothing him, and he felt a little bit of hope that encouraged him to finally sleep.

xxx

In the morning, though, Ray was just as cold as ever, or so Bob thought at first, but then Ray smiled at him over his coffee and held his hand when they went out for lunch.

"Ray?" Bob had finally said, tentative, while the sat around on the beach and tried to pretend like they wanted to be there and wouldn't rather be at a crowded, smelly show right now.

Ray sighed and nudged Bob's arm with his elbow. "'M sorry," he grunted.  
Bob nodded and slumped a bit more against Ray, glad that he could do it again.

He was glad that Ray wasn't Gerard, because Gerard would have wanted to talk it out and shit. Some things just don't need to be said out loud.

xxx

Of course, that wasn't the last fight they ever had. They were the kind of couple that love each other to death and are really quiet, but fight more than you'd expect.

Years after their wedding, plates would be thrown, glaring matches would be held, storming out and staying out until the next day happened. But within a day, they'd always make up and apologize, verbally or not, and they always felt the same.

Bob seemed to cry a lot more than he used to, and Ray seemed to yell a lot more than he used to, but Bob threw things a lot, so it all evened out.

They were sat on the couch one day, watching tv on mute and leaning against each other, Ray kissing the tears off Bob's face as they both ignored the mess of shattered vases around them.

"Why did I even marry you?" Bob chuckled jokingly, scooting closer to Ray under the blanket they had thrown over themselves, winding his arms around the guitarist's waist.

"'My cheekbones."


End file.
